Life Itself
by LostExploring
Summary: What if Castle met Kate instead of Meredith. AU.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't actually have time to write. I just get cocky on weeks that I get to work less that 45 hours.

Thanks to Nightlight's fire for proofreading. All mistakes are mine.

What if Castle met Kate instead of Meredith?

Life itself is the most wonderful fairytale - _Hans Christian Anderson_

She sat in the café across the street, newly purchased book in hand, sipping a grande latte out of a cheery blue porcelain mug. Eclectic artwork decorated the bare brick walls, sporadically illuminated by miss-matched floor and table lamps. The shop was full, but not oppressively so. Most of the chairs were filled, tables crowded with text books, drinks and pastries.

The book signing started in an hour, in a small book store across the street, used and new books mixed, dark and crowded, smelling of musty paper and cinnamon candles, sunlight fighting its way into the corner where his table was set up. She had taken her number – only 50 books signed today, so they had tickets to mark places in line, allowing customers to browse instead of standing, winding through the store, shoving for a spot to meet the author. It would be a small gathering, but in the tight space, she began to feel claustrophobic. So now she sat, prepared to wait out some of her time listening to soft jazz and nibbling a blueberry muffin.

Sinking deeper into the soft couch, she set her coffee cup on the side table and cracked the book open. She loved the sound hardback books made the first time they were opened, a soft sigh of protest, the thwip of crisp pages turning, before age and use and humidity made them limp and pliant, and the smell of fresh pulp and book glue. She paused briefly at the dedication, before slipping the pages to Chapter One.

Footsteps sounded beside her. "Excuse me." A male voice. She lifted her head, not enough to look at the man, her eyes still on the page before her, but enough to acknowledge she'd heard him. "May I sit here?"

In her peripheral vision, she saw his hand gesture to the space beside her. Lifting one hand, she waved it at the empty space, welcoming and dismissing in one. Bringing the hand to her face, she tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear before returning it to the edge of her book.

Denim clad legs slid past the top of her vision as the man edged his way between her and a low coffee table to perch on the cushion next to her.

o.o.o.o.o.o.

Rick had an hour before he was due back at the store. He'd met the lady who owned it at a conference his publishing house had hosted three months ago. The gray-haired, wirey, energetic lady gushed about his books, and then demanded that he come do a book signing at her store. Last week he'd come by to scout the place out and fell in love with it instantly. Dark corners, little rooms down twisty hallways crammed with lopsided bookshelves that overflowed with books. A stuffed raven perched high one a shelf, along with a mishmash of skulls and preserved snakes in bottles, sea shells, lock pick sets, baby dolls and house plants. A fat gray striped cat sunned itself on a worn in arm chair in the corner beside the only unobstructed window. He had spent hours exploring the little shop, walking away with a nearly unmanageable stack of books, mostly used with worn down edges, but a few crisp new ones thrown in the mix.

But he'd learned his lesson about showing up early to book signings, and it was not a mistake he was eager to repeat, so he found himself biding his time in line for a cookie at the coffee shop across the street, keeping the book store in sight, but hoping to stay away from the mad crush of fans.

From the back of the line, he scanned the room around him, noting mostly college students huddled in groups around low tables or sprawled in easy chairs. As his gaze worked around the room, he noticed a female at the front of the line. Soft brown hair curled around her shoulders, a light jacket hugged her figure, and tight blue jeans accentuated her lean, muscled legs, but what caught his attention was a familiar looking book nosing its way out of her handbag.

He couldn't be sure, but the color looked awfully familiar, so he watched her as unobtrusively as he could while she paid for her drink and muffin and picked her way through the crowd to an empty sofa at the back of the room.

"Sir? Sir?" a voice interrupted his reverie. The barista leaned over the counter. "What can I get for you, hon?" She asked when it was clear she had his attention.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. I was just…" she raised her eyebrow, eyes darting over his shoulder to the woman he'd been staring at and then back to him. He felt warmth creep up his cheeks and coughed hesitantly. "I mean, errr, could I have a white chocolate macadamia nut cookie?"

He paid for it and scurried off, his feet taking him toward the back of the room.

When she failed to acknowledge him besides vaguely gesturing to the empty space beside herself, he decided to have a little fun.

"Soo… What are you reading?" he asked after he had settled next to her.

Her brows furrowed slightly, but she obligingly tipped the book up for him to be able to catch the title, eyes still glued to the page.

"Oh, Storm Warning. That's new isn't it? Is it any good?" he asks enthusiastically. It was clear that she hadn't made it past the first page.

She hummed noncommittally, hand coming up again to brush air out of her face.

"What's it about?" he leaned in closer, invading her personal space to get a glimpse of the half-filled page.

Huffing, she slipped her number ticket into the book to mark her place before snapping it shut.

"I don't know." She snapped, "I just barely start…" she faded out, finally turning to face him, recognition lighting her features as her mouth fell open.

"Lovely weather we've been having, eh?" he questioned innocently, looking around the coffee shop, as if seeing the weather outside through the ceiling.

She let out a startled breath of amusement, opening and closing her mouth fruitlessly a few times as the face printed on the back of her book jacket winks at her from across the seat.

"So, do you like the first line? I spent _ages_ on it," he pressed, leaning forward like an overeager child.

At that she broke, a laugh escaping the confines of her mouth without her permission.

She was breathtakingly beautiful, he decided, sharp green eyes, cheeks flushed with embarrassment and humor, wide smile with glossy red lips. He'd do anything to hear that laugh again, see her smile.

"It'd be better if I could get past the first line, I'm sure." She glared, backhanding his chest, surprise and nervousness at meeting her favorite author making her bold.

Rick grins at her, eyes twinkling, and extends his hand, " Hi, I'm Rick."

"Kate." She grasps his hand firmly, giving it a slight shake, hoping he can't feel how fast her pulse is thrumming, or see how the twinkle of his blue eyes has raised the color in her cheeks.

0.0..0...0.00.

A/N Any feedback is appreciated. Thanks.


	2. Chapter 2

What if Castle had met Kate instead of Meredith?

Disclaimer: The studio I work in doesn't have cameras... Or air conditioning...

"So do you normally spend your time before a book signing harassing your fans?" She tried for a glare, but failed miserably, pressing her lips together hard to try and hide the fangirl smile that wanted out.

"Are you normally this abusive to people when you first meet them?" he countered.

"Only the ones who interrupt my reading. You of all people should know how important books are." She accused.

"Eh," he shrugged. "Books are a dime a dozen. I mean that guy," he gestured to the book laying in her lap, "I heard he wrote half of that book in the back of some bar. And the ending? Derrick, the main character, is coming out of the…"

Her hand slapped over his mouth, her eyes bright, frustration and amusement both.

"Don't you dare."

His eyes sparkled at her above her hand, "Ahhlll ehhnnn eeey…" he tried.

She pushed her hand harder against his mouth. "No." she ordered.

A second later, she whipped her hand back. "Oh! Ewww! Uhhg!" she exclaimed, wiping her hand on her jeans. "You licked me!"

"Oh, I'm sorry. My lips were feeling chapped. Your hand must have been in my way."

He opened his eyes wide, trying to project an apologetic air.

Unconsciously her eyes flicked down to his mouth, lingered, tracing the play of light and shadows across his lips, before pulling up to meet his eyes to catch him staring hard at her, the playfulness in his gaze falling away in his intensity.

Blushing, she looked away, eyes falling to her lap, only to meet his eyes grinning up at her from his picture.

"So, uhm…" his voice interrupted after a long moment of silence, "What are you doing after this?"

Her eyes shot back up to his.

No way.

No. Way.

She obviously was misinterpreting his meaning. This was Richard Castle. He's not… but the way he was leaning forward, the unmistakable interest in his eyes. She swallowed hard, and thought, why not? She'd probably never see him again. Might as well have some fun.

"Well…" she drew out, lowering her voice, "there's a book signing next door, and after that, I was planning on going back to my place, pouring myself a hot, steaming bath, taking off my clothes and sinking up to my chin in the thick lavender-scented bubbles. And when I'm all nice and relaxed, I'll pull out my brand new book..."

She paused, watching his eyes darken as he imagined the scene unfolding, holding his gaze steady as her hand crept to her book bag and pulled out the book still encased in it.

"By Patterson."

"No." his face fell. "Oh, of all the things. That is such a cruel tease!" he whined.

"What? You don't think you're the only author I read, do you?"

"You could pretend." The pout still pursing his lips, but his eyes were laughing.

"You'd rather I lie to you and stroke your…" Her eyes darted down, then back up to meet his, watching his pupils expand, "Ego… than tell you the truth?"

"Oh, Kate, you should feel free to stroke my ego any time you'd like," he murmured.

A shiver of heat slid through her at his dark tone.

"But what I'm really hearing from this," he reached over and slid his book out of her lap, "is that you will be all alone," his fingers deftly flipped the cover open to the empty front page without breaking eye contact, "with nobody to verify your whereabouts."

He tugged a pen from his shirt pocket and scrawled a quick note across the paper before snapping the book shut and passing it back to her.

Prodded on by the expectant look in his eyes, she looked down at the object in her lap, slowly opening the front cover.

_Can I be your alibi? – Rick Castle_

Her eyes shot back to his face. He had a lopsided grin on his face, letting her know he was teasing, but it did nothing to mask the genuine hope in his eyes.

She barked out a short laugh and he beamed. "Seriously?" she demanded incredulously. "That is possibly the worst pick-up line I've ever seen."

He laughed aloud, such a joyful, free sound that it made her heart flutter.

"Have you ever used this before? Wait, no," she amended as his eyes gleamed with mischief, "How many times has that line worked?"

"That depends, Kate," he leaned further into her space, "would you like to have dinner with me tonight? I should be finished in a couple of hours."

"Hmm, I don't know." She leaned back against the armrest, a slight smile on her face belying the butterflies beating against the inside of her chest. Richard Castle was asking her out! "You see, I came here to get my book signed, so really," she waved her book in front of his face nonchalantly, "there's nothing left keeping me here."

"Oh. Right." He leaned back, visibly deflating. "Well, I," he glanced down at his watch. "I should get going. It was. It was nice meeting you, Kate." He didn't meet her eye as he shifted his legs under himself to stand, glancing no further than the book in her hands.

"Hey," Kate breathed out softly, leaning forward, "Rick." He paused, but still refused to look at her, looking for all the world like a kicked puppy, all the bravado of his earlier teasing and flirting drained right out of him.

Without her permission, her hand drifted up and smoothed the hair across his forehead and down the side of his head, thumb grazing the ridge of his ear, fingers at the back of his neck, and coming to settle on his shoulder.

"Hey. I was only teasing. I'd love to have dinner with you." She murmured lightly.

"Really?" he turned hesitant eyes to her. "I – You don't have to."

She hated that he didn't even sound hopeful, just cautious. Impulsively, she leaned forward and kissed him on the side of the mouth, his skin warm under her lips.

Pulling back, she let out a small huff of surprise, color creeping up her cheeks at the look in his vibrant blue eyes. "I…" she trailed off, uncertain of where she was going with it, only knowing she needed to fill the silence with some sort of reassurance. "It ends at six, right?" She finally ventured.

Dumbstruck, he nodded, still in awe of the soft feel of her lips.

"And it starts in about five minutes?"

"Oh, ahh, yeah, actually, it does." He startled, checking his watch again. Standing, he cast

her an apologetic, hopeful glance. "I'm sorry. I really… I…" He was usually much more coherent around females.

"You have to go, but you'll see me after?" she asked, a laugh in her voice.

"Yes. That. Exactly. And hopefully, the rest of my fans will be less abusive." He teased, finally finding his voice.

"Well, try not to get any drool on the rest of them." She warned.

With a laugh, he leaned in close, kissing her on the side of her head, whispering, "Only you, my dear." And with that, he stood and strode away.

0.0.0..0..0.0..0.0

Thank you for all the encouragement. Any feedback is appreciated.


	3. Chapter 3

When she entered the bookstore again, he was sitting on the edge of a table, new book open to somewhere in the middle as he read an excerpt from it. His voice, low and deep, rolled through the words, building the scene, instantly taking her away from the musty dark bookstore and into the world of Derrick Storm. The bell on the door chimed as the door slid shut. Rick's eyes shifted up and he stumbled over the words as he caught sight of her. A smile spread itself over his face before he ducked his head and continued reading.

"…drove him to focus on his senses: the blackness of outside behind him, the smoothness of the storage container beneath him, the heavy rasp of his breathing, and the yellow lights on the cream-colored cinder block walls. Those seemingly insignificant details would be overlooked by most, but Derrick had found solutions to the direst situations in the most miniscule pieces of information. The florescent bulbs cast the light, flickering, through the ceiling fans, giving everything a sense of movement, of energy, the fast flicker in time with the beat of his heart, in time with his ragged breath. The music from outside – from right outside the open window behind him could barely be heard over the pounding blood in his ears…"

As his voice picked up around her again, she fell into the swirl of words, the ebb and flow of sounds losing meaning in the richness of his voice. She found herself watching his face, the emotions flickering past as he relived the experiences of his characters, mesmerized as a crease formed at his brow, and then smoothed away, replaced by the lines at his mouth as he smiled.

"And that's all I'll read tonight, because if I read it all, you'd have no reason to buy it, and I'd be out of a job."

His comment was followed by good natured laughter as he snapped the book shut and slid off the table. He grinned at the crowd as he stepped around the table, and then winked as he noticed her watching.

Despite herself, she felt her cheeks color, and ducked her head as some of his audience turned to see who had ensnared his attention.

With effort, she turned herself away from the author's table and set off in the opposite direction to explore the nooks and crannies of the store, determined to let him do his job and not stand there gawking at him for the whole two hours. The shelves were arranged at angles to create spaces for each genre. Old stained armchairs slouched in between the walls and coffee tables stacked high with books. Handwritten cardboard signs demarked each section. Murder Mystery lurked behind her. Sci-fi slumped along the wall beside her. A little back room was crammed with Romance, Western, and Gardening. She grinned at a shelf running right along the ceiling labeled "Books for Tall People", and laughed out loud when she turned a corner and was faced with a sign hanging above an aisle "Horror/Pets".

The jangle of metal bells against glass as the door opened and shut caught her attention as she glanced through the foreign literature. She ran her fingers lightly over the dusty leather covers of the Russian titles where they stood stiffly against their French neighbors. Inadvertently she eavesdropped on the new customer at the front counter. An older lady's gentle voice inquired about the book signing.

"No, I'm sorry, you're too late. There were only 50 tickets, and they were gone an hour ago," came the crisp answer from the store owner.

"Oh." The disappointment evident in the lady's voice brought Kate around the edge of the shelf. A gray haired lady dressed in a pale blue dress suit laid her book on the wooden counter by the cash register. She reminded Kate of the librarian at her elementary school growing up, tidy and sweet.

"Here." Another step toward the counter.

Both women looked up at her as she tugged the ticket from her book where it marked her place on page one, held it out to the lady.

"You can have mine."

The woman gave her a quiet smile. "Oh, I couldn't possibly."

"No, really." Kate insisted, crossing the carpeted area to stand beside her. "I don't mind."

The woman regarded the scrap of paper between Kate's thumb and forefinger, adjusted her glasses. She dropped her gaze to the book Kate clutched protectively to her chest, before looking up, an eyebrow raised.

Tightening her hold on the book, Kate flushed under the woman's steady gaze.

"Dear, I can't…" the woman faded off a Rick's handler called out the next ticket number to be signed.

Kate glanced down at the ticket in her hand. Her number. She glanced at the table where the author sat, at the counter where the woman had placed her book.

"Number twenty-six." The insistent voice broke through her reverie. Kate reached out, snatched the book from the counter and pivoted to stride across the room. Behind her the Librarian Lady, as Kate had dubbed her in her head, made an inarticulate sound of protest.

Richard Castle smiled up brightly up at her as she came to stand on the other side of his table.

"To whom should I make it out?"

"Oh, umm…" she stuttered, blood rushing to her cheeks as she realized she had no idea. No idea what Librarian Lady's real name was, though she had stolen the poor woman's book. Twisting, Kate met the book owner's eyes. "To whom should he make it out?" she called across the store, parroting Rick Castle's words, flushing deeper as she noticed the eyes of at least half the store on her.

...0..0.

"So." He glanced over at her as they walked. She had barely looked at him since the end of the signing, had let him lead her quietly out of the store, a hand at the small of her back. The only word she'd spoken was when he'd asked if she'd rather walk or take a cab the 4 blocks to the restaurant.

So now they walked. Silently. It wasn't awkward, per say. The weather was perfect, and the sidewalks were pleasantly empty, letting them walk casually side-by-side, shoulders not quite brushing. But he could tell she was still embarrassed.

She turned wary eyes toward him, waiting, the hint of a blush still crowding her cheeks.

"Do you usually steal hapless old women's books from them?"

She made a sound of frustration, but it sounded more like a strangled laugh to his ears. "No. I…" She struggled with it for a moment before narrowing her eyes at him. "Shut up."

Bursting out laughing, he slung an arm around her shoulder. She smiled, but dropped her gaze to the sidewalk.

"Hey. Kate." He stopped walking, tugging her to a stop as well. "It made her night. That's all that matters. You did a good thing."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

A/N Thanks for all the support and encouragement! All feedback is appreciated. Tell me what works/ what doesn't work. I've got the first 9 chapters mostly written, and past that rough outline.


	4. Chapter 4

"You wanna go dancing?" The question rolled out of her mouth as they stood waiting for their separate cabs outside the restaurant. She didn't want the night to end, for him to slip away, never to be seen again.

It had been a good date. The best. They had laughed and flirted over Chinese food, stealing each others' chicken. Rick kept trying to give her all of his snow peas, but hadn't been able to figure out how to pick them up with his chop sticks, and had ended up spearing them all like a shish kabob and dumping them unceremoniously on her plate. She'd laughed and used her chop sticks to flick them back at him, which had led to an all-out sword fight with their eating utensils. Her face hurt from smiling so much.

A light mist fell on them, coating her hair in a gossamer of dew that caught the light of the street lamps, making it shimmer.

Her dark eyes looked up at him, eager and hesitant all in one, her hand resting against his forearm. He doubted she even knew it's there.

A cab pulled up before he had a chance to answer. He opened the door for her, and she slid in, her grip tightening on his arm to tug him in after her.

She gave the cabby an address, taking Rick's silence as acquiescence.

The cab smelled of sweat and wet dog. An awkward silence descended on them both, and Rick shifted nervously in his seat. It wasn't like he'd never hooked up with a girl at a book signing, but this felt different, and he found himself at a loss for words, something that he prided himself on never happening to him. She was breathtakingly gorgeous next to him, and somehow confident and shy all at the same time. Her grip on his arm never loosened, but after giving the address to the cabby, she turned to her window and watched the streetlights flicker past, alternately illuminating her profile or casting it into deep shadow.

As the cab slowed, Rick carefully withdrew his arm from her grip to reach for his wallet, but by the time he fumbled it out from his back pocket, she had already slid the money between the grating separating them from the driver.

"Hey, I could…" Rick began to protest, but was cut off by her raised eyebrow.

"You paid for dinner. I can get the cab." The decisive tone left no room for argument.

o.o.o.o.o..oo.o.

He stumbled out of the cab onto a grimy side street light by dim yellow street lamps and glowing green neon lights. The heavy thump of bass pulsed through the walls of the building in front of him. Turning, he held out a hand, and watched as Kate slid gracefully out of the seat, lacing their fingers together as she stood.

She cast an assessing look over his clothes – blue jeans and a maroon button-up with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. He'd fit well enough, but it was clear that she had not dressed to go clubbing with her jeans, casual shirt and tennis shoes. The line for the club stretched around the corner, men with leather jackets, and women in high heels and short skirts. She sighed and glanced up at Rick. He seemed to have drawn the same conclusion, but was stepping toward the line, tugging gently at their joined fingers.

She held firm for a moment, long enough for him to glance back at her. Giving him a playful smile, she tipped her head toward the entrance before leading him to the front of the line.

The bouncer gave them a hard look as they approached, opening his mouth, and raising his arm to direct them to the end of the line. Then they stepped into the light surrounding his station. The man's mouth snapped shut, eyes widening.

"Kate?"

The woman in question gave a small smile.

"Hey Rafe."

"What are you doing here tonight? Aren't you - ?"

"Had a free night, thought I'd have a little fun." She interrupted smoothly. "You don't mind, do you?" she asked, a laugh in her voice.

"No, no, of course not," The man stepped forward from his post to give her a solid side hug, "You go ahead." He gestured to the door. "He with you?" a head nod to Rick.

"Yeah, I…" She held up their joined hands. "Yes."

O.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Heart pounding in time with the pulse of the music, the flicker of lights

"Do you wanna come back to my place?" With him pressed against her, hands drifting low, pulling her tight, lips at her ear, there was no mistaking what he was asking. She took a deep breath, trying to calm the racing of her heart, but it only pushed her chest into tighter contact with his.

"I…" she stuttered as his teeth grazed her earlobe. "I'm a virgin." She managed, pulling back slightly. "And I won't have sex unless I'm married."

He pulled back, studying her face in the dim chaotic lights of the club.

Disappointment shimmered through as she stood under his scrutiny, knowing that no matter how lovely the evening had been, it was over now, and she'd never see this man again unless she hunted him down at one of his book signings.

"Okay." He sounded like he was agreeing to something. And he wasn't pulling away. He leaned back in, lips skimming her jaw, his hands on her hips rocking her into him.

"Wait. What?" She couldn't think straight, not with the heat of him, and his hands and... What was he – shouldn't he?

"Marry me. Come home with me and never leave."

"I – We…tonight?" she stumbled, lurching back to look him in the eye.

"Tonight. Yes. Marry me." Light kisses to her cheek, her jaw.

"This isn't Vegas, Rick, we can't just…" she pulled a hand away, waved it vaguely in the air.

"I know a guy. We could. Come on, Kate." His hands released their grip on her hips, slid along her arms to lace with her fingers. Tugging on her hands forward playfully, his eyes lit up like a little boy's.

Recklessly, she let her body crash into his, pulled in by jerk of his hands, the easy charm in his expression, the affection in the twist of his lips. "Yes." It was out of her mouth without her permission, but she found she didn't mind. It was. It felt right, true.

His eyes went wide, a grin spreading across his face. "I…" He stopped, shook his head and pulled her in, wrapping his arms around her and spinning her around in the middle of the dance floor, the club music still pulsing around them.

"Good. Yes. Let me. Let me make a call. I'll be right back. Stay here. Don't leave, okay?" He released her, squeezing her hands once as he backed away, keeping his eyes on her as if she might disappear at any moment.

She stood alone in the middle of the floor after he maneuvered his way through the press of dancers, slowly coming back to herself. As the song changed, she began second-guessing her decision. The entire night had been a whirlwind, something out of a fairytale. Her favorite author asking her on a date, taking her to dinner, clubbing, and then proposing to her? This couldn't actually be happening. She slid a foot back, preparing to edge her way off the floor when he reappeared at her elbow.

A/N Thanks for all the feed back ya'll are great! Any feedback is appreciated. Not completely sure how I feel about this chapter.


	5. Chapter 5

It was late. But, wait. Not that late. People were still in the hallways as he led her through the justice building, their footsteps echoing on the marble floors. The connection with his fingertips was the only thing that felt solid as she drifted after him. She caught a glimpse of a clock. Only 11. Right, the club had just been opening. Her mother might still be here.

Shit. Her mother. She would kill… No. She was going through with this. Hang the consequences. She'd worry about that in the morning.

He tugged her through a wooden door into a judge's chambers. She failed to catch the name on the brass plaque as she staggered into him. Catching herself against his back, she wrapped an arm around his waist to steady herself, pressing her face into his shoulder blade, taking comfort in his solid warmth as she tried to slow her thumping heart. Closing her eyes for a moment against the smooth fabric of his shirt, she let the low rumble of his voice wash over her.

As the rushing thrum of blood in her ears subsided, she began catching the conversation around her.

"…for meeting us here like this." Rick's voice vibrated through her chest.

"You know I appreciate your impulsiveness, but this isn't like the horse. I can't just make this go away for you." The man, a judge, she assumed, answered.

"I know. I'm sure. I haven't been drinking. I won't want this to go away. This is sure." Rick responded, his voice confident, but quiet.

Lifting her head, Kate peered over Rick's shoulder.

"I'm sure you feel that way now, but how long have you known…Wait. Katie?" The judge's jaw dropped as he caught sight of her. "Does your mother know you're here?"

"I'm sure she will by morning." Kate answered dryly. She lifted an eyebrow and waited. The judge had the grace to look sheepish. Gaining confidence, she and step around to join her fiancé leaving her arm slung low around his hips.

Wait?

Fiancé?

It overwhelmed her momentarily, but the warmth radiating from him soothed it back down.

Lifting an arm, he tucked her against him, waiting for the judge's response.

"Are you sure about this, Kate? There's no going back." The judge gave her a penetrating look.

Kate leaned into Rick weighing her response, drawing a steadying breath. "I'm sure, Judge Wheldon."

The rest was a blur. Bob Wheldon stepped out of his office to grab his secretary to act as witness, shuffling papers in his hands. He took a deep breath, a sigh that echoed through the room.

"Richard Edgar Castle," his voice intoned.

Rick's hand twitched, clutching briefly at her waist, and she felt his focus sharpen as the judge recited age old questions.

o. .o.o.o.o.o.o.

The cab swerved around a corner, pulled sharply to a stop. They rocked apart, his hands leaving under her shirt to open the door behind her. Shivering as the night air hit her, she tugged down the back of her shirt, leaving one hand on his shoulder for stabilization as she slid out onto the sidewalk. His shoe caught on the door frame and he stumbled into her.

Laughing as his body collided with hers, she caught the belt loops of his jeans at his hips, stabilizing him. Huffing a laugh, he wrapped his arms around her, nose buried in her hair and swayed with her under the street lamp outside his building.

Dipping his head lower, he placed a kiss on the edge of her jaw before pulling back, taking both of her hands in his to pull her towards the door of his lobby.

The doorman held the door open as they approached. Castle threw a "Thanks, Jimmy," over his shoulder as he freed a hand to press the elevator call button.

o.o.o..oo.o..o.o.o.o.o.o.o

His keys slipped through his fingers, clattered onto the floor. Kate let out a low hum deep in her throat. She crowded closer to him his back, sliding her hands under his shirt, slipping her fingers into the waist of his pants.

"Kate." He gasped. "You gotta…"

Grinning into his collar, she slid down him, running her hands down the outsides of his legs. Picking the keys up, she wrapped herself back around him and inserted the key into the lock.

As soon as the key turned, he had the door open, and her pressed up against the other side of it, using her body to slam the door shut with them inside, his hands at her waist.

Sliding his hands lower, he tugging at her jeans, fingers fumbling at the button, brushing at the warm skin of her abdomen. He felt her breath quicken, her hands clutching at his shirt, warm breath rushing across his neck as she leaned her head against him.

Something was off.

Not quite right.

She wasn't pulling away, wasn't resisting, but… He pulled away slightly to catch a look at her face. The angle was off, but her face appeared paler. Then he recognized the breathing pattern, short little gasps - the beginnings of a panic attack.

His gut clenched.

Her first time.

She wasn't as ready as he thought she had been, and he wouldn't… couldn't…

No.

He let out a measured breath.

Slowly, he slid his hands back, spanning her waist, then around to her back, not pulling her into him, but not pushing her away, either. Running his hands up and down her back, gentling her, he leaned his head against hers, cheek against her silky hair, whispering nonsensical soothing words into her ear. When he felt her gradually relax against him, he pulled away, meeting her eyes. She looked ashamed, hesitant, not quite meeting his eyes, like she was unsure of his reaction. It made his stomach constrict uncomfortably. Desperate for something to set them on an even keel again, he gave her a shy smile.

"So, icecream?"

She gave him a blank, uncomprehending look.

"I've got practically every kind. Well, the important kinds. A few of the important kinds. Rocky Road and Pistachio, at least. Maybe Strawberry. And we haven't had dessert yet."

He was rambling, he knew, but her confusion wasn't panic as he let his hands drift down her arms and wrap around her fingers, drawing her further into his apartment toward his kitchen.

Still to passive for his taste, she followed his lead into the kitchen, even as he dropped her hands to flick on the light and bury his head in the freezer.

"What would you like?" He queried, shooting her a winning grin over his shoulder while pulling out a haphazard stack of pints. "There's Almond Joy, Rocky Road. Oh. That's not Pistachio." He gave the green container a hard look. "Umm… Mint Chocolate Chip. Possibly better than Pistachio, don't you think?" he risked a glance at her. Still no response, her eyes a glassy blank.

"Kate?"

She took a deep shuddering breath and gave him a hesitant smile. "Almond Joy?"

"Yes, definitely. Absolutely. Coming right up." He spun away from her, relief easing the tight squeeze in his chest.

The clink of metal against porcelain brought her further out of her reverie. Sliding up beside him, she rested hip against the counter to watch him. His eyes stayed focused on the dessert in front of him, but she saw the quick rise and fall of his chest through his half-unbuttoned shirt. Embarrassment cut through her now that her breathing had calmed. He didn't seem upset, but was giving her more space than he'd given her all evening, and that made her anxious.

"Hey," she murmured, laying a hand against his shoulder. He shot her a quick smile, but dropped them just as fast back to the counter. "Thank you."

He shrugged, nudging her shoulder with his own. "Wanna watch a movie? I've got all the classics."

"And by classics, you mean?"

"You know: Superman, Batman, Star Wars, E.T., Singing in the Rain, King Kong, Indiana Jones. The Classics."

"I like how you slipped Singing in the Rain in there with all the adventure movies."

"I also have Casablanca." He offered.

"Ehh. How about E.T.? I haven't seen it in forever?"

0.0..0.0.0

A/N Thank you for all the lovely feedback. Reviews are always appreciated. Let me know what you think.


	6. Chapter 6

She woke to a darkened room, light from the street lamps below creeping its way in through slits in the curtains. Different from where she normally woke up. The angle of light was wrong, yellower, too.

Not home.

Not college, or her grandparents.

Warm, soft cotton sheets enveloping her. Slowly she took stock. Window to her left, light creeping in through chinks in the blinds, laying bright stripes against the wooden floor. She was lying mostly on her stomach, face smooshed into a pillow, hair softly brushing her cheek, the drozy rise and fall of her chest dragging the covers lightly across her back.

Lazily she pointed her toes to stretch her leg muscles, shifting her pelvis to stretch her lower back.

Oh.

That was new. A soreness. Not bad, but… different.

She shifted more, the sheets falling away from her shoulders. Her bare shoulders. Her bare… oh. She was naked.

The haziness fell away as the person lying next to her shifted.

Abruptly, the night before came crashing back to her. Rick Castle. Slowly she turned her head to look at him. His face was turned toward her, pillowed on his arm, sleep-slack and innocent in a way it definitely had not been last night.

She stayed still watching him sleep until her bladder protested. Cautiously, she slid out of bed and padded toward the bathroom. After she finished taking care of necessities, she looked around the spacious bathroom. Knowing that if she went back to bed, she'd be restless and end up waking him, she opted to shower.

The warm water caressed her body as she rinsed away the evidence of the night before.

Well, not all the evidence. She had faint finger-shaped bruises at her hips. Heat rose in her cheeks as she remembered the look in his eyes as he clutched at her, pleasure coursing through her body. There was also a darker bruise at the side of her ribs, teeth marks around the edges.

Running her fingers lightly over the love bite, her other hand reached for his shampoo.

o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o

She watched his face from across the room, leaning against the bathroom doorway. He hadn't seen her yet, eyes focused on the rumpled bedding across from him, the pillow hanging halfway over the edge of the bed. Emotions flickered too fast for her to follow. What had started as a lazy grin as he stretched in his sleep, body worming its way toward wakefulness, morphed into concern and ratcheted up into panic. A moment later, he apparently reached a decision because a dissatisfied calm settled over his features.

She stepped forward and his eyes snapped to her, raking over her towel clad form.

He swallowed and looked down, ashamed –an apology? – before meeting her eyes. "I'm sorry, what was your name again?"

Hurt shot through her, stinging at the back of her eyes. But he didn't mean it. The recognition and apology both were too strong in his eyes.

Deliberately she stalked through the room, adding an extra sway to her hips, not breaking eye contact with him as she approached.

Leaning over him, she rested her weight on one hand against the mattress, her other hand coming to rest on his hip where the sheet rode low, her fingers against the cotton and her thumb caressing his bare hipbone, her hair in damp curls tracing across his face.

Lips against his ear she whispered, "Kate Castle, and you'd better not forget it." With a sharp bite to his earlobe she pulled away. Punishment and forgiveness in one if he was wanting it.

Something cleared in his eyes, the self loathing disappearing from his expression, replaced by amusement and no small measure of lust, but under it all, genuine affection.

Reaching for her, he wrapped an arm around her waist, dragging her into him until she fell into him. Sliding his hands through her hair, he angled her face to look into her eyes.

"Katherine. Houghton. Beckett. Castle." He whispered against her lips, punctuating each name with a kiss.

Relief flooded her body and she rewarded him by rocking her hips down into his. His eyes slammed shut on a soft groan as his hands slid down to unwrap her body from the terry cloth.

Her hands skimmed down his back, pressing into the dimples at the base of his spine, then lower, pulling him close.

o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

The smell of coffee filtering through his bedroom woke him. Blinking his eyes, he brought a hand up to scrub across his face. Lazily, he tilted his head to peer across his bed, hoping to catch a glimpse of the woman whom he was rapidly becoming in danger of falling head over heels for. Sighing in disappointment, he let his head sink back into his pillow for a long moment, until the sounds of clinking metal and glass coming from his kitchen drew his attention. Right. Coffee. Kate. With a grin, he slid out of bed and padded through his door.

He paused at the edge of the kitchen, watching her. A faint smile lit her face as she tapped eggs on the side of a bowl. She already had a streak of flour on one cheek, and dusty white finger smudges on the hem of the shirt he had been wearing last night. It hit her mid-thigh, and beneath that, her legs were bare.

He gave a low hum of appreciation, and her eyes flicked over to him. She smiled as their eyes met, then her eyes darted up and down his body, color suffusing her cheeks.

Oh, ahh, yeah. He'd… Somehow he'd forgotten his lack of cloths. The redness of her face pleased him more than it ought, and he strode forward, wrapping his arms around her shoulders from behind and placed a sloppy kiss on her cheek. She tasted floury. He pulled back with a laugh.

"Mornin' Kate." He rubbed his fingers across her cheek. "Whatcha making?"

...

A/N what do ya'll think?


	7. Chapter 7

They ended up making the pancakes together, her sitting on the counter while he stood in front of the stove.

When the last of the batter was gone, he flicked the burner off and moved to stand in front of her.

He wrapped his hands around her legs just above her knees, pulling her closer to the edge of the counter, the cool granite against her thighs making her shiver – or was that the dark look in his eyes as he stepped between her legs, pulling her flush against his naked body?

Nipping at her throat, he let his hands, glide up her legs, sliding under the edge of his shirt, bracing his thumbs against her hips as he leaned into her.

The sound of metal grating against metal caught his attention from across the room moments before the rattling of his door handle, the squeak and smack

of suction breaking on his door as it was pushed open.

Eyes widening in horror, Rick raised his eyes to look over Kate's shoulder as shimmering green fabric made itself visible through the slowly widening crack of his entryway.

"Richard, darling!" a sing-song voice called out as vibrant red hair cleared the door.

"I just met the most lovely female, and I think you should meet her."

Kate was stiff under his frozen hands. He could feel her breathing, quick and warm against his neck, hands tightly gripping his shoulders.

"Mother!" Rick groaned, staring at her in abject embarrassment, thankful at least that her eyes were still aimed toward his bedroom door.

Kate's shoulders slumped at his interjection, leaning her forehead into his shoulder. He felt her body shaking under his hands.

"I know, I know." She waved her hand airily, "you hate it when I interfere, but really, Richard, it's been over a year since Kyra. It's starting to become pathetic. And she really is such a nice girl. Her name is Meredith. I think you would enjoy her company. She'll be at the party on Saturday that you promised to come to, and I really must insist that…" she turned toward the kitchen, stepping past the half wall before her eyes registered what she was looking at.

His face flamed as his mother's eyes caught his own and held.

Without thinking, he pulled Kate off the counter toward himself, taking a step back and turning so that her back faced his mother.

"Rick!" Kate exclaimed from the circle of his arms, a yelp of surprise and indignation that made him wince as she shoved on his biceps to gain some distance between them. The look on her face was fierce, but had the hint of laughter in her eyes, the corners of her mouth fighting not to turn up.

"I'm not a shield." She paused, amusement becoming more evident as she darted her eyes down his figure and back up to meet his eyes, adding, "And it's not like she's never seen it before."

"Not recently." Rick protested, his voice cracking in embarrassment.

He felt her tremble against him yet again, and realized, belatedly, that she was laughing at him.

"Go get some clothes on, naked man." She slapped his thigh affectionately as she used her other hand to push away from him, spinning in his arms to face his mother.

"Martha Rogers!" She greeted as she stepped further away from him, cool as a could be, as if every morning she welcomed famous actresses into their naked son's home while he went to find more clothes.

He stood speechless, watching the exchange in amazement. Or mostly. He got distracted early on watching the hem of his shirt brush against the backs of her thighs as she stepped toward his mother, the play of muscles in her legs, but then the exchange left him breathless, in awe.

"It's so good to meet you." Kate continued warmly, taking the momentarily silent actress's hand in her own, pulling her in for a quick hug, wrapping her free hand around the woman's shoulders, pressing her cheek to the older woman's.

"I'm Kate Castle," she introduced, leaning back slightly to catch the woman's eye with a small smile.

She paused, taking a quick breath to steady herself. Martha had yet to give any reaction, and she could still feel Rick's gaze burning into her back, but her mother had raised her to be a good host, no matter the circumstances, and for the moment, that grounded her, despite the awkwardness hanging in the air.

"Would you like a cup of coffee?" she offered, stepping around Martha to snag an extra mug from the cabinet above the coffee maker, already pouring as she turned to check for a response.

Martha seemed to have gathered herself enough to slip into the role of guest. With one last concerned glance at her son, who seemed to have forgotten his nudity and his embarrassment as he gaped open-mouthed at the beauty making herself at home in his kitchen, Martha turned her attention to the young thing proclaiming herself a Castle.

"Yes, dear, thank you." She smiled to cover her careful scrutiny.

Kate, unperturbed, nodded to herself, and then tilted her head to the cup in her hand. "Cream and sugar?"

"Just black, if you don't mind."

Kate gingerly passed the cup over and caught Rick's eye where he stood in the living room, halfway to his bedroom, staring dazedly at the women before him. She raised an eyebrow at him and made a subtle shooing motion with her head toward his room.

Red flushed up his face and ears as he snapped his mouth shut and scurried to his room, the door bouncing on it's doorframe behind him.

Kate fought back a smile as she turned back to the man's mother. "Would you like to stay for breakfast? We were about to sit down to eat." She offered, pulling plates down from the cabinets beside the stove.

When he reemerged from his room, tugging a T-shirt over his head, his mother and – his mind stuttered over the word wife – were sitting next to each other at the bar facing into his kitchen. Kate was daintily cutting bites from her pancake while his mother sipped her coffee. He was struck again by how well she fit in his home. He wanted her here again and again, not just for the… it'd been so long since he'd spent time with a female who was real, who challenged him and made him think, and he hadn't realized how much he had missed it until he was watching her interact in his space without him.

He couldn't hear all of their conversation, but he caught the tail end of Kate's answer.

"…Sophomore at NYU. Actually, I…" she looked down, biting her lip, then shot a glance at his clock on the wall. "I should probably leave for class soon."

Wait. Still in college?

"How old are you?" the question blurted out of his mouth before he had time to think it through.

"Richard!" his mother exclaimed, turning a scowl to him. "You never ask a woman her age. I taught you better than that."

"Sorry. I…" He took a step back under his mother's glare then turned his gaze back to Kate. "Wait. That means… Russia… Last semester?" His words came out in a jumbled mess, and he could feel his mother's disapproving stare on him for his lack of elocution, but Kate gave him an amused smile.

"Eighteen, and yeah, I got back last month."

"That's so hot," he said in a rush, then blushed. Apparently his mouth and brain were no longer connected.

But she was blushing, too, and grinning, looking up at him shyly through her eyelashes.

"I should get going." She stood, bringing her plate with her. "Can I…?" she blushed brighter. "Would you mind if I borrowed a shirt? I won't have time to stop by my apartment before class, and I…"

"Of course," he interrupted, "second drawer down in my dresser."

He watched the sway of her hips until she disappeared with the click of the bedroom door, and then stared at the doorway for a few moments longer. The clearing of his mother's throat brought him back to the present. He tossed her a quick glance, and then his eyes widened as a thought occurred to him.

Darting into the kitchen, he yanked out the junk drawer a little too eagerly, sending the entire drawer crashing to the floor. Muttering a curse, he set the empty drawer on the counter and sifted through the paperclips and screwdrivers and assorted receipts with his foot.

"Ah!" he exclaimed after a long moment, bending down to scoop up an object from the mess.

His head popped over the counter at the same time as the click of his bedroom door opening. Kate was wearing her jeans from the night before, and a black Star Wars shirt that was a little tight on him, but dwarfed her slight frame.

"I like you in my clothes." It came out of his mouth without his permission. He snapped his mouth shut, looking abashed. "Ehh, I mean, you look nice," he fumbled. "Are you coming back for dinner tonight?" he asked, looking overly anxious.

Kate froze in the doorway, looking for all the world like a deer in the headlights. "I, well I was…" she hedged, looking down at the floor and sucking her lower lip into her mouth.

"You don't have to," he interjected nervously. "It's just, I thought… I don't actually know what I thought, but, I'd like to… I don't want this to end here, and…" he stumbled to a stop.

She looked up and caught sight of his face, handsome and worried and eager to please all in one.

"Yes." She was proud how confident she sounded. This morning had been all over the place, and it seemed like neither of them knew quite what to expect from each other, but she knew she wanted to see him again. As much as she wanted to go home and think things over for a few days, she had a feeling that doing so would ruin the tentative relationship they had formed.

"Yes," she repeated, "What time?"

"Uh…" he fumbled, running a hand through his hair. "Seven? Or later, if that would be better. But you can come over any time before then, too. I don't know when you get out of class, and I don't want to impose or any…"

She crossed the room in a few steps and cut him off by pressing her lips to his.

"Okay." She breathed against him, brushing her nose against his. "I'll be here at seven."

"Good. Good, okay." He pulled back after giving her a quick peck, grinning at her.

"So, what happened here?" she asked, gesturing at their feet.

"I was looking for something," he replied, his expression regaining some of its hesitance.

She raised an eyebrow and waited him out.

He held the object up sheepishly. A keychain in the shape of a Disney castle with two keys attached. "Your keys. The silver one is to get into the lobby and the gold is for the apartment."

She took a step away from him, angling for the door. "Isn't that a bit soon?"

Castle let out a soft chuckle. "Kate? We got married last night after knowing each other for less than eight hours. I honestly have no idea what may or may not be too soon. But if anything ever makes you uncomfortable, you can always tell me to slow down."

She flashed back to the night before when he offered her ice cream in the place of sex. Her shoulders, which she didn't realize had tensed, slumped as she let out an accepting laugh. "Right."

She took the keys and gave his fingers a squeeze. "Thanks."

.0.00.0

A/N I make no apologies for Martha.

Thank you for all the lovely feedback. Tell me what you think. Good or bad, it is appreciated.


	8. Chapter 8

The front door clicked shut behind her, leaving a deafening silence.

"Kiddo?"

He took a deep breath before rotating to face her. The trepidation was clear on her face.

"I want to keep her."

His mother barked out a short laugh. "You realize she's not a puppy?"

"Yeah. No. I…" He winced at the whiny, petulant quality in his voice. He took a breath. "I want to make this work." The convection in his voice surprised him, and from her expression, it did her as well.

She leaned back in her chair regarding him carefully.

"How do I make this work, mom?"

She blinked at the lost little boy tone. He hadn't called her 'mom' since he was eight, before he left for his first boarding school.

Scrubbing a hand down his face, he collapsed into the chair Kate had occupied minutes earlier in front of his mother.

"Just watching her make herself at home this morning. I want that to continue. I want this to be home for her, for her to feel at home." He stopped, his eyes coming into sharp focus.

Martha gave him a tentative smile. "You have an idea?"

"I might." He hedged. He tried and failed to contain the vibration of excitement radiating through him.

"Don't scare the poor girl off, darling. I think I might like her as well."

"I'll try not to. I might need your help."

At her laughter, he looked up. "No, I mean… not with not scaring her off – well, maybe that too – but with making her feel at home."

.0.0.0.0.00.0.

"Kate Beckett, I know that is not your shirt you are wearing."

Kate stopped, turning slowly, waiting for her friend to catch up.

"Maddie." Kate gave her a crooked smile.

"And are those yesterday's pants?!" Maddie was still several yards away, calling to her across the hallway outside their history class. "They are!"

"Maddie. Please. Keep your voice down," Kate hissed at her, making a chopping motion with her hand.

"I knew it," Maddie stepped closer, lowering her voice, "I knew you couldn't keep up that 'good girl' BS. Pay up, Kate. I could use a new pair of boots." Maddie held out her hand.

"You know it was more than that... and actually…" Kate bit her lip. "Actually, it's Kate Castle, now."

"What?!" Her friend's voice went up several octaves. People were staring. "You got? Wait. Castle? Like the author? The book signing?"

Kate gave her a small nod, grinning.

"How? What happened? You can't just. You don't even know him!"

"I'd say I know him fairly intimately now." Kate gave her friend an impish grin

Kate glanced at her watch, and up at the door, where students were filtering in to their class.

"Oh, no, Kate. You aren't going anywhere until you tell me everything.

.0.0.0

The courthouse swarmed with people, all quietly going about their business, the click of heels reverberating off the walls.

Rick neared the chambers of his friend, hearing the murmur of his voice before he rounded the corner. Another voice responded.

"You did what?!" The tone was low, dangerous.

"Joanna, she's an adult. It was her decision to make. You can't live her life for her."

"No, I can't but that doesn't mean I stand by and let her ruin it." The voice accused.

"Is that what you said when… Oh, Rick! How are you?"

The judged gave him a warm, if slightly tense smile. A women in a navy blue power suit stood with her back toward Rick, hands on her hips. If she stood any stiffer, her spine would snap.

"What can I do for you, Rick?" the Weldon asked as Rick stepped into the judge's spacious office and let the door snick shut behind him.

"I, uh.." Rick stuttered, suddenly nervous. His eyes darted to the woman standing behind the desk, her eyes boring holes into him. He swallowed, then turned to face the man, deciding to ignore the woman, who seemed to be having a rather bad day.

"Did you file the certificate?" he queried.

"No, I didn't" the judge sighed. "It's early, yet, and I was afraid this would happen."

Rick stared at him, confused for a moment, then it clicked.

"No!"

His protest came out louder than expected, and he took a step back. "I mean, file it. Please," he pleaded.

"Rick… Are you sure?"

"She's… amazing. And not just… I mean, that was pretty great, too, but…" he faded off, remembering the woman in the room, sparing her a glance, and then wishing he hadn't.

"She's gorgeous and funny and smart... And there's that thing that she does with her…" He cut himself off again, lowering his voice before continuing. "It was amazing. I didn't even know someone could…"

He stopped at the look the judge was leveling at him.

"Right." Rick cast an almost glance at the scary lady.

"What I mean is. She's. It's. She renders me speechless. I don't do speechless. She's the most levelheaded woman I've met since Kyra, possibly even before. The way she handled herself this morning… My mother came over. You've met my mother? It was awful. But Kate. She's… She sits down to breakfast with her like it's the most natural thing. Welcomes her into my apartment like it's hers. And I want it to be. Hers. I want…Please. File the paperwork." He peters out, not sure what else to say, what else he could say.

Bob Wheldon studies him for a long moment before nodding, eyes darting to the woman on the other side of the room.

.

He left the Courthouse with a bounce in his step and a copy of his marriage certificate in his hand. He had a lot to do before seven tonight.

..0.

Madison grabbed Kate's arm and tugged her away from the classroom.

"Where are we going?" Kate stumbled after her friend.

"Coffee. I need coffee. And this story. But coffee first. You're not making any sense."

.0

"Sooo… How was it?" Maddy asked with a smirk, pushing Kate toward a table in the back of the university coffee shop as she cradled her cup in her hands.

"It was amazing and awkward and a jumble I can't make sense of. He was incredible."

"I bet he was."

"No. I mean… well, yes, but not what I meant. He… Let me start with how we met."

A few minutes later, Madison was choking on her coffee and trying not to spit it on her friend. "That is possibly the worst pickup line ever."

"I know, right?" Kate laughed. "But it worked. Not sure what that says about me. So yeah. We went to dinner and talked about everything and nothing and I don't know that I've ever had that much fun on a first date. I mean, aren't first dates supposed to be horrid and awkward? And I didn't want it to end, so I asked him if he wanted to go dancing."

"You took him to Firefly? Kate. You work there."

"So? Just because I bartend somewhere a couple nights a week doesn't mean I can't go there for fun. It's a nice club. Besides, Rafe let us skip the line."

Kate paused, tracing the swirls of wood grain in there table. "He asked me back to his place, and I told him I couldn't and why, and he said okay, said he knew a guy."

"He totally called your bluff." Maddie laughed.

"Yeah. He did. But it's Richard Castle. Richard. Freaking. Castle. What did he expect me to say?"

A/N sorry for the delay. I will try to post further chapters in a more timely manner, but life tends to happen, so no guarantees. Whatever feedback you have to offer, however, is always appreciated greatly, good or bad. Thanks!


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